Written in a particularly trying period of life and possibly an unhealthy mindset but the current state of our world, our culture is so trying it remains somewhat relevant. The format is all over the place but the poem flows ok in my head, I pray it serves the desired purpose to the reader.

Circles in the head



Stuck reflecting on the dead,




A possible escape

A hope

From the whole rotten game,

FUCK fame

Your favorite rappers name

How much our society values

Designer brands and

Designer Drugs,

Done being a victim of the game

And struggling with the shame

The remorse

The uttering of her name,

Can I remember you without the pain?

Can I dream of you

See your face again?

Oh the sorrows and suffering to life

Some never thought they’d wield a knife

As a sort of twisted pain relief

I’d lost hope,

Lost belief.

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